Waiting for a Hero
by Legendarily Quiet
Summary: His father hasn't come back yet, but Edward refuses to give up hope as he pens letter after letter and stares out the window and down the hill. Just one letter, just one person at the right time, and his father will realize that it's time to come home, and he'll come running. And when that day comes, Edward won't have to be strong anymore.


**Disclaimer: Legendarily Quiet does not own Fullmetal Alchemist.**

* * *

She's fading away.

He tells himself again and again that she'll get through this – that his family won't get more broken than it already is, that they'll be _okay_ – but for the life of him, he can see no clear end to this nightmare. Every day her grip gets a little weaker, and her eyes take a little longer to focus. It takes more effort for a smaller smile, and bigger lies for a hint of joy to come back to her face.

His fatherhasn't come back yet, but Edward refuses to give up hope as he pens letter after letter and stares out the window and down the hill. Just one letter, just one person at the right time, and his father will realize that it's time to come home, and he'll come _running._

And when that days comes, Edward won't have to be strong anymore.

Science has failed, pure love has failed, and the will to hold on is failing his mother, too. The doctors all say there's nothing they can do, and all the paper cranes in the world can't bring his mother back to health.

As the man of the house, Edward takes on the duties his mother can no longer do. He wakes Alphonse up in the morning and walks them to school before his mother can even feel bad about not being able to get out of bed. He makes sure that the house is neat and tidy, so that his mother will have something nice to look at when she gets better. He practices alchemy because it reminds her of _him,_ and if the thought alone is enough to make her smile, then Edward will study until his eyes fall out and his brain turns to mush. Because, as much as he would like to deny it, he knows that he's a smart boy and he has to face the facts.

His mother is dying, and there's nothing he can do about it.

But that's why he has to wait – wait for his dad to come back. Wait and hope and hold his family a little closer. Wait and hope and study because maybe there's something he can do to help. Wait and hope and _believe_ that his father will come back and make everything okay again.

Edward knows that his mother can't be allowed to die, because then that would be the end and he'd be left all alone to raise his brother. He knows what it means to be strong – if he didn't before then he sure does _now _– but he's not strong enough to raise Alphonse all by himself.

But he won't have to, he knows, because his father will come back and his mother will be alright. Edward tells himself – reminds himself – every night when he bends down to give his mother a kiss and every time Alphonse asks to sleep in his bed. He's not alone, and he won't ever be alone, because he has a brother and a mother and a father who is _on his way right now._

* * *

It's not until he's standing in front of her grave with Alphonse crying beside him that he realizes he was horribly, horribly wrong. He doesn't have a father, because if he did he'd be here right now, and he doesn't have a mother, because she's buried six feet under the ground.

There's no way Edward can live like this.

(And he won't have to, he knows, because though he failed to keep her here, he won't fail to _bring her back._)

* * *

And by the time the man comes home, he's no longer an awaited hero, and has no claim to his title. He's a stranger with cold eyes and an accusing tone – accusing the boy who needed himof running away when all he had ever done was _try. _The man isn't greeted with a smile or relief or the face of a little boy. He gets what he deserves – harsh glares and snapped words, a cynical teenager screaming at him to _get away because he is nothing to him now._

And the man knows that he has failed in a way that can't be forgiven. Deep in his heart, he regrets.

* * *

**L.Q: Found this old file and thought I might as well post it.**


End file.
